


A Midsummer Night's Dream

by AriesAscending



Series: Monster Summer Mash [12]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: ? - Freeform, AU of Road Trip Trio, Alternate Universe, Always count on the bros to cuddle you til you feel better, Bad times for Reader at end (sort of), F/M, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gaster Needs a Hug, Gaster gets excited about everything, Gaster is a nerd, Gen, Good W. D. Gaster, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Sorry, It's my favorite trope, M/M, More stargazing, Multi, Oh look, Reader Is Not Chara, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader Needs a Hug, Reader-Insert, Scientist W. D. Gaster, Sorry Not Sorry, Sort Of, You travel with Gaster instead of the bros, hypotheticals, is this just fantasy, is this the real life, things are weird in reader-land
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 10:08:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15555393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AriesAscending/pseuds/AriesAscending
Summary: You pick up an unfortunate skeleton on the side of the road. It turns out to be your best choice.(why do you feel like you've done this before?is someone m i s s i n g ?)





	A Midsummer Night's Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I hurt myself writing this, I hope you're all happy-
> 
> Also, I really love Gaster, so I'll probably do more with this eventually- especially if you guys like it.

Your parents may not approve of you going on your little cross-country trip, but in your opinion, this was the  _ best  _ choice you could have made. The sense of freedom you gain from driving along the wide open stretches of country road, elbow resting on the rolled-down window sill of your old RV and wind in your face and radio turned up loud, is more more than you could have ever asked for. Things were so stifling back home, but here, you could do and go wherever you wanted, experience new things, and no one could tell you not to.

Your trip had started three weeks back. You were tired of being stuck inside for such a gorgeous summer, so you had called in your unused vacation days, packed up your bags, and broke out your parents’ untouched RV. You were gone within a night, and so far, you hadn’t regretted a moment of it.

About the only thing you missed were the people, especially when you were on a road like this without much to distract you. You’d kept in contact with any friends via social media, but beyond messaging a few of your closer friends, you tried to stay away from such apps. The last thing you wanted were your parents breathing down your neck, disappointed in you for dropping everything to “live like a hooligan.”

You were plenty civilized still, thank you very much. It could be worse. You could have decided  _ not  _ to take the RV and just walk out with only the clothes on your back and live in alleys for the duration of your trip.

You’re pulled from your thoughts by the honk of a car in front of you. It’s a cute little white van with several children in it, from what you can tell. They’re honking at the cars in front of them, who have slowed down for some reason. You stick your head out the window, curious about what’s causing such a ruckus. 

Oh. It’s a person, standing on the edge of the road, thumb out in the universal sign of hitchhiking. From what you can tell, they’re wearing a giant straw sun hat and a dark coat, which you don’t understand, given the fact that it’s so hot out.

For a moment, it looks like the car might let them on, but then they simply start driving again. Their thumb falters minutely, but remains stubbornly in the air. The next several cars drive past as well, leaving you feeling sorry for the poor fellow loitering on the side of the road. However, as you pull forward, you think you understand why the others rolled past them.

    It's a monster. A skeleton monster by the looks of it, with a baggy turtleneck that's some shade of light purple. There's a pair of cracks in their face, one running from the back of their head down to their sagging right eye socket, the other trailing down from their left eye to the corner of their bashful smile. Floating amidst the darkness of their eyes are two small dots of white light, soft and fuzzy and warm. It puts you instantly at ease.

_ (Where is the other one?  _ You find yourself thinking, but then you wonder why you thought it. You've never met this stranger before, and you've certainly never met a skeleton monster.)

    They're giving you a look of mixed wariness and hope, like they want you to pick them up but they don't think you will. It breaks your heart and makes you mad all at once. From what you can see, all the poor guy’s got is a tiny bag slouching by his feet and the clothes on his back, but no one else could be bothered to help him out. No one was willing to give him the time of day, and for what? The fact that he's a monster. Sickening.

    Nevermind the fact that he could be a serial killer; just because monsters in general were pretty nice didn't mean this one was too- not the time!

    With a soft smile, you rolled down the window and leaned out. They were much taller up close, their chin coming up to the window sill. Hmm. Would you be able to fit them in the RV…? Nevermind, worry about that later. “Howdy, stranger. Looks like you could use a lift.” You jerk your thumb at your vehicle, throwing in an enticing wink. “I’ve got a real nice rig here. Full plumbing and everything.”

They-you feel like it might be a “he”-looks very surprised you’re willing to give him a ride. His eyes seem to flicker, and you get a picture of fur and green, and then it’s gone as he speaks. “Are you sure, my friend? Even though I am…” He falters, soft, low voice trailing away as he gives his holed hands an ashamed look. 

You don’t know why those holes don’t surprise you. You don’t know what possesses you to lean out the window and grab the hands of a complete stranger, holding them tightly as you stare him dead in the eyes. “You have no need to be ashamed. There is nothing wrong with you. So what if you’re a monster? You could be a puddle of slime and I’d still let you on my RV if you wanted.” You crack a smile, admiring his startled look and the hint of purple you see climbing along his cheeks. “If it bothered me, I wouldn’t have offered, sweetheart.”

Where is all of this coming from? You have no clue. But it seems to work. He gives you that shy smile again and murmurs, “Well, if you insist, then… I suppose I shall take you up on your gracious offer. Thank you, my friend.” His hands squeeze yours, and somehow you don’t mind the touch. 

As a matter of fact, when he pulls away to grab his bags, you miss the feeling of cradling his long fingers in yours, or the indent of the holes pressing against your palms. You try to ignore it, hurrying around to the door so you can open it for him. You try to take his bag for him, but he seems to anticipate this, as he holds it above your head-far,  _ far  _ above his head, because holy crap, you were right, he’s  _ very tall.  _ He’s maybe a head shorter than the ceiling, but it’s possible he’s taller. 

Either way, he gives you a fond, amused smile, eye sockets crinkling at the edge, and you’re struck both by the familiarity of the expression and how comfortable he already seems around you. “I appreciate your desire to be a good host, my friend, but I assure you that these bones are not so brittle that such a small bag would be a burden.”

Your flush despite yourself, and can’t resist giving him a playful pout. With an exaggerated huff, you step sideways, waving him in. He chuckles  _ (something in you resonates)  _ and sets his things down, glancing around. His shoulders slump just barely, as though the sight of your RV has relaxed him. He catches you staring at him and smiles, holding his hand out and introducing himself. You don’t quite catch it, but you take his hand and return the favor anyways. You think you see a brief flash of something else in his expression, but it’s gone quickly.

You show him around the RV, though he seems to have the interior mapped out pretty quickly already. You don’t question it. He seems surprised and a little flustered when you offer him the bed below yours in your room, and you quickly apologize with your own mortification. You’re entirely too comfortable with this stranger, and while it should disturb you, it’s strangely… comforting? You feel like you’ve already known him for a long time, and it just feels natural to be close to him.

While you don’t say as much, you think he notices it when you assure him it would be no big deal; you’re pretty lonely in here by yourself and having someone close by would be nice. He echoes the sentiment, shyly admitting that he has a bit of a fear of being on his own. Of course, this makes you want to know why he was out there alone on the street- how long he’d been there by himself, and you feel an inexplicable surge of protectiveness.

You make a likely-impossible promise that if you can help it, he’ll never be alone again.

 

Picking him up was the best choice you could have made. 

Your companion (you still felt like there was someone missing here, an empty space where someone should be) was a doctor apparently, though he wouldn’t tell you much about what he used to do. He sat in the passenger’s seat to chat with you and occasionally act as your navigator, as he was very good with directions.  The two of you would often playfully bicker over the radio, fighting over which station to listen to. You liked much of the same music, but there were some songs you would never understand the appeal of.

    He talked to you about everything and anything. You spent hours simply chatting back and forth, sometimes telling stories or sometimes philosophizing; sometimes you'd set up debates or road trip games to pass the time, and sometimes he'd get to talking about something science-y, and you'd stumble through the conversation with him. He was always kind enough to explain what he talked about in terms you understood should you find yourself lost, and you walked away from the conversations much wiser.

    In return, you told him about the surface. He'd been a little late coming up, he'd explained hesitantly, and so many things about the surface still confused him. He was particularly interested in the scientific leaps mankind had made and loved to compare it with tech from the Underground, but he also found humans in general to be fascinating.

    You spoiled him a little with science. You went to expos and conventions and fairs and museums, anywhere dedicated to learning. He always got so excited, grabbing your hand and smiling wide at you, sockets twinkling. You'd let him drag you around, standing back as he spoke to fellow scientists and smiling affectionately at his enthusiasm. 

    He seemed to particularly like the space museums and observatories, and would spend hours studying star maps and peering out the telescopes. (You may or may not have decided after that to purchase several of said star maps and a telescope, both of which you were thanked for profusely.) 

    Your RV was a mess most days, but it was a kind of mess you didn't want to clean. His scientific papers went on almost every available surface save for the couch, which was were the two of you generally ended up sleeping-you had developed a habit of talking well into the night with him. You'd bought him several outfits, as he didn't have much more than what he had been wearing when you met him, and so several turtlenecks and coats ended up draped over furniture randomly. Your shelves were filled with peculiar concoctions of tea-he made his own, which had… interesting outcomes, to say the least-and little sweets you both enjoyed, along with a mix of your favorite books and his binders for research.

    All in all, your RV had become far more comfortable and homely than it had been. You smiled every time you stepped over one of his papers or he complained about you drinking all the tea, and overall, you were simply much more content than you had been in a long time. It felt like the happy days would never end.

_ And of course, that's just when they did. _

    You'd pulled into a nice little diner along the beach for breakfast, neither of you wanting to cook. You were in the middle of working your way through a delicious breakfast when he spoke up. “My dear, are you alright? You've been very quiet all morning.”

    With a half-hearted smile, you reluctantly met his worried gaze. “It's probably nothing, I know, but I just… I have this awful feeling… like something bad is going to happen soon. Like… like I'm going to…” You swallowed thickly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I feel like I'm going to lose you.”

    His hand gently gripped yours. You didn't like the sad way he smiled at you. “My dear, you don't have to worry about that. I'm not going anywhere. As long as you want me here, I'll be with you.”

    This was wrong. He wasn't supposed to be saying that to you. Who was? There was someone else. Someone with golden eyes and a confident smirk and determination in their voice. 

    “You're part of my family now,” he continues, but that's wrong too, his face is wrong, where is the green in his eyelights and the pale turtleneck and the slight accent? “I won't be so easily shaken.”

    Your head is spinning. You're missing someone. Two someone's, two people who are important to you, so important, important just like he is. Who is it? Who's missing? “What's going on?” You whisper, giving him a shaky look. His fingers tighten around yours reassuringly, and the touch helps calm you slightly. “I'm confused. There's- we're not- we're missing-”

    “Easy, sweetheart,” he murmurs, getting up from his chair and circling around to kneel in front of you. He's still giving you that sad smile. You hate it. “They're not missing. They've been here the whole time. Everything will be alright, my dear, I swear to you.”

    “You're leaving, aren't you?” You realize, gripping his hand tighter. “You're going away.”

    “No, sweetheart,  _ you're _ leaving. My time with you is up.” He reaches out, gently rubbing your cheek, and you realize you're crying. He smiles, more sincere, and leans forward, resting his forehead on yours. His hands frame your face gently, and he whispers, “I had a wonderful time getting to know you, darling. Goodbye.”

    His name comes to mind, forming on your tongue as easily as breathing, but you don't have a chance to respond. In the next moment, you're starting up into Aster and G’s concerned faces. 

    G speaks up first, looking relieved. “Hey, sweetheart, about time you woke up. Looked like you were having a nightmare.” He brushes your cheek, and the gesture is so familiar you almost start crying harder. He frowns, rubbing your head. “What happened?”

    “I don't… I don't know,” you mumble, reaching up to grasp Aster's hand when he reaches for you. You bring it to your other cheek, turning your head into it. “I think… I was in the RV, and I met a man… a monster? Who was like you two but not, and he traveled with me, and…” You don't remember much else. Why are you crying? Why does it hurt? You can't even remember his name. You think his eyes might have been purple. “I don't know. I think something happened to him, and that's why I'm crying.”

    “I'm sorry you had to deal with that, my dear,” Aster soothes, frowning sadly. You think for a moment that's what the monster from your dream looked like. Sadness seems to suit him, even if it shouldn’t. “Would you like some tea to help calm your nerves?”

    The thought if tea makes you feel sick, so you shake your head. Instead, you ask shyly, “ Could we just sit on the couch and, I dunno, watch movies and cuddle or something?”

    They both chuckle, looking a little more relaxed. G smirks, leaning over to bump your forehead affectionately. “Sure thing, Cricket. Movies and cuddles it is.”

    He goes to get it set up while Aster pulls you off your bed carefully. Instead of setting you down, however, he simply carries you over to the couch and settles you on his lap. You curl up against him eagerly, throwing your legs into G's lap as he sits next to you and starts the movie. 

    Between cuddling and talking with them and watching movies, your bad feelings gradually slip away. However, as you curl up for bed that night, you can't help but try and recall your dream-trying to remember his name and why he was so important. 

    You fall asleep thinking about stars and feeling lonely.


End file.
